


Crowley's Pregnancy

by Eggselent



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Has A Cloaca, Crowley Has No Genitals, Crowley is not happy, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Established Relationship, Hyperpregnancy, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), but luckily Aziraphale loves him very much, it's me the author I have the pregnancy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggselent/pseuds/Eggselent
Summary: When Crowley wakes up feeling bloated, it isn't long before he realises he's pregnant. But a demon pregnancy isn't like a human pregnancy, and with hundreds of eggs growing inside of him, it's going to be difficult for Crowley to get through it.Luckily, he has Aziraphale to rely on now, and the angel loves him very much.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 119





	1. Pregnancy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kink fic about Crowley becoming impossibly, enormously pregnant and then laying hundreds of eggs. If that's not what you're expecting, feel free to turn back now.
> 
> The snake!Crowley content is all in the second chapter, along with all of the egg-laying content.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

Crowley was feeling bloated, and it was worrying him.

He hadn't been bloated in centuries – no, millennia, not since that one time back in Rome when he'd foolishly tried to keep up with Aziraphale at dinner. But here he was, for some reason. His stomach was aching and sticking out a whole two inches further than usual. And he had no idea why.

He hadn't been eating any differently than he normally did. He hadn't done any miracles that would change his corporeal form, and neither had Aziraphale. The whole thing was extremely strange.

Plus, he was itching metaphorically somehow in a way he couldn’t quite scratch. It felt sort of like when he needed to shed, but he’d only just shed recently, a few months after the failed apocalypse, so he wouldn’t be due to do that again for a good few years. He knew there must be a cause, but he couldn't figure out what.

He lay down on his smooth, silken sheets, groaning, rubbing his aching belly with his hand. Go-Sa-Someone, it was uncomfortable. He moaned pathetically as he shifted and a new wave of discomfort started.

That was it, he was going to sleep. Perhaps it would be gone by morning.

-

Crowley awoke the next morning feeling even worse.

He resisted the urge to go right back to sleep, and stared at his bloated stomach, trying to get it to reveal its secrets. If anything, it looked to have grown again since yesterday, and by at least a centimetre too. What was causing this?

On the dresser next to the bed, his phone was ringing. Oh, it was the angel! Crowley sat up quickly, ignoring the way that made his insides feel like jelly, and hurried to answer it.

"Crowley, my dear!" cried Aziraphale through the handset. "What would you say to lunch at the Ritz? The news said they've added a new dessert, and I simply must try it. Oh, I’ve been looking forward to it since I heard the announcement!”

"Mmmmf," said Crowley. "Ummmm, maybe tomorrow, angel. Jussst got something to take care of today. Nothing major, you underssstand. Jussst, it'd be better to do lunch tomorrow."

"...are you alright, dearest?" said Aziraphale. "You sound a little off. Should I come over?"

"...no, no, don't do that!" said Crowley, panicking. He didn't want Aziraphale to see him all bloated like this, not unless he had to. "It'ssss nothing, angel, promissse. Jussst dealing with some leftover demon-y things, that'sss all. You don’t need to see it."

"If you're sure, dear," said Aziraphale. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." And with that, the angel hung up.

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the angel had bought his excuse.

Wait.

Demon-y things.

Could it be...?

No, surely not.

He looked down at his belly again, aghast.

The truth was that not all demons were fallen angels. There were far too few of those, and who wanted to assign the routine torturing roles and the sweeping up after the hellhound puppies to the demons who’d been there from the start? No, in Hell, all demons occasionally went through a very, ah, special experience. Crowley thought it rather ignominious, and had so far managed to avoid it by arguing that it'd take him away from the excellent work he was doing on Earth and allow his adversary to get the drop on him, which had persuaded the higher-ups, or rather, lower-downs, to use their superior miracle capacity to miracle him out of it, the same as they did for themselves. But now he didn't have that excuse, and, well, there were certain demons in Hell who were really rather hoping he would suffer.

And they would no longer have any reason to miracle him the demon equivalent of contraception.

Tentatively, Crowley examined his stomach, prodding it with his fingers. Yes, the texture was right, he realised. He sighed, resigned to his fate.

He was pregnant. With eggs.

Well, that was something.

There was no way to get rid of the eggs, of course, once they’d set. Demon eggs didn't just grow on the material plane, and they couldn't just be miracled away like that. No, the eggs were growing not only in his corporation, but in his true form, and there'd be no way of separating himself from them until they were ready to come out. He was just going to have to put up with them until they were ready to hatch.

He fought against the instinct to hide, to run away and curl up in a ball somewhere until it was over. It was going to be so _embarrassing_ if Aziraphale saw him. Somehow the angel kept looking at him like he was the most beautiful being on the entire planet, and he didn’t want to ruin it by showing up looking like _this_. He could hide, right? There was no reason the angel would need to visit at all.

But that was before, Crowley realised, before they’d confessed their feelings to each other. Since they’d agreed to get together officially not long the failed apocalypse, they'd been seeing each other practically every day. The angel would realise something was up in no time.

Well, at least he had the rest of today to think of a plan.

-

"Crowley!" said Aziraphale, as soon as the demon walked into the Ritz. "You came!"

"Course I did, angel," said Crowley, conscious that despite being covered by his shirt, his new belly was clearly visible. His stomach had grown again overnight, the surface developing small bumps due to the multitude of tiny eggs it held, and he'd had to miracle his jeans a whole two sizes bigger than usual. "What else have I got to be doing?"

"Well, it's just that yesterday, you sounded so..." Aziraphale trailed off, looking at Crowley's swollen stomach. "Dearest, is that...?"

"Yes, fine, angel! It's what you think it is!" Crowley snapped, not wanting attention on his stomach for any longer than necessary. "I know, I look ugly like this, sorry to spoil things for you. Let's just eat already."

"My dear..." Aziraphale gazed at him softly, contemplating for a moment. "You know that whatever shape you take, you couldn’t spoil anything, right? You’re beautiful in every shape, including this one.”

Crowley gave a complicated sort of shrug.

“It’s true,” said Aziraphale. “But of course, let's eat. Try the caviar?"

"Yesss, I think I will," said Crowley, blushing. Surprisingly, he was craving it. "And I’ll have a bit of the salmon too, right. I think the, uh… I think they’re hungry."

-

It was two weeks since Crowley had first discovered he was pregnant, and he was extremely uncomfortable.

He was lying down on a conveniently miracled sofa in his flat, a tartan blanket covering his swollen, bulging belly. It had grown fast, and only two weeks in, was now the size of a regular human pregnancy at full term, his skin painfully stretched from being forced to expand so quickly, and the eggs pressing into his insides in awkward ways. With a groan, he rolled miserably onto his side, the weight on his front feeling strange and unbalanced. He was already tired of it, and with this many eggs, he knew, he still had a long way to go.

Aziraphale had gone out a few minutes ago to get pastries for the both of them from the little bakery down the street. When the angel had learned of his condition, he'd insisted that he temporarily move into Crowley's flat, and he'd been fussing over Crowley as much as the demon would allow ever since. Crowley pretended to be annoyed by this, but really he was very glad. If he'd have followed his original plan to run away and hide, he was sure he wouldn't have been coping anywhere near as well.

He was suddenly struck by the urge to raid the never-previously-used fridge for pate and marmalade. Pate and marmalade? Really, that was what his body was going with?

Carefully, he pushed himself upright, throwing the blanket aside, and sat for a moment, resting. His jeans were now sitting underneath his protruding belly, miraculously even larger and stretchier, the zip fully open to allow for more comfort, and his grey t-shirt rested on top of it, barely covering any of the strained, lumpy skin. His waistcoat, tight as it was, had been abandoned as impractical by the end of the first week.

Slowly he stood up, letting his feet take the full force of his weight, and waddled his way to the kitchen, feeling more like an overgrown penguin than a snake.

Fortunately, he reflected, he didn't have to breathe or use the bathroom like normal humans did. At this size in a human pregnancy, he knew, the pregnancy pressed on their bladders and lungs, which sounded very inconvienient. So at least he'd avoided that hassle. But they were still so gosh darn heavy, on the celestial plane as well as the material one, and it was exhausting to carry them around all the time.

He made it to the kitchen, though, and opened the fridge, staring at the packed shelves. Carefully he slid out the pate and set it on the counter. Then he searched for the second part of his impromptu meal. Where had Aziraphale hidden the marmalade?

Ah, there it was, right at the top. It was a little above his head, so he leaned forward and reached up as best he could, his belly sticking right into the fridge and bumping into the shelves. He winced at the extra pressure as he rocked onto his tiptoes, and gently wrapped his hand around the marmalade, easing it off the shelf.

As he rocked back onto his heels, the glass jar slipped from his fingers, crashing to the floor.

"Arghhhhhh!" he screamed, frustrated, looking down at the shattered tangle of glass and marmalade, stepping backwards so he could see it past the curve of his swollen stomach. There was no way he was going to even try bending down. “Whyyyyyyy…?”

"Dear?" came Aziraphale's voice from behind him, concerned. “Are you quite alright?”

"Blessed marmalade..." said Crowley. Aziraphale set the pastries down on the coffee table, and walked over to Crowley, putting his arm around the demon's shoulders. He snapped the fingers of his other hand.

"There we are," said the angel, as the marmalade suddenly reassembled itself and found itself resting on the counter. "No harm done, dear."

Crowley leaned into Aziraphale's arm, allowing the angel to take some of the weight off his weary feet. He felt a bit silly, if he was honest, seeing as he’d somehow forgotten he could do miracles of his own.

"Hi, angel,” said Crowley. “The little buggers want pate and marmalade."

"I see," said Aziraphale. "Now that they're on the counter, do you want to get it yourself? Or would you rather I bring it through for you?"

"I'll get it," said Crowley. "'M not an invalid."

"Of course not, dear," said Aziraphale, kissing him gently on the cheek. "I'll just get the pastries ready, then. Let me know if you need anything?"

"'s fine, angel," Crowley said. “With you here I’ve got everything I need, anyway.”

"Then I'll see you in a minute, dearest," said Aziraphale. The angel kissed him again, and then walked the pastries through to the sitting room.

Crowley stood for a moment, glaring down at his distended belly for daring to cause him so much trouble. Then, sighing, and standing with his side to the counter so he could reach the damn thing without anything getting in the way, he plated up his ridiculous food craving.

-

It was a month into Crowley’s pregnancy, and he was now four times the size of any normal human pregnancy. His stomach had gotten heavier and heavier as it had grown, and it wasn’t easy for him to leave the sofa now, since he was only able to waddle a few metres at a time before his weight forced him to sit down again. His distended belly drooped down towards the floor over the edge of the sofa, forcing his legs apart and leaving him feeling a little like a large sack of potatoes. In addition, he’d lost the ability to use miracles all together a few days after the marmalade incident. Aziraphale said it was due to his body using all of its miracle energy to feed and grow the eggs while keeping his corporation functional. Crowley thought it was bloody annoying.

He didn't know what he'd have done without Aziraphale. The angel had miracled him up a large and sturdy wheelchair, and had been wheeling him around the city. The humans had been miracled to conveniently not notice there was anything out of the ordinary about Crowley's size, seeing him instead as a normal human wheelchair user. It was great.

Yesterday, they'd even been to see a new play by an aspiring new playwright Crowley had been following. Aziraphale had booked them a box, and angled Crowley's chair just perfectly to give him the best view of the stage. The play had been hilarious, and Crowley’s high spirits had carried him all through the rest of the evening, and the night, too.

The eggs were getting bigger now, Crowley was sure. The bumps on the surface of his stomach seemed significantly larger than they had been. Well, it made sense that they were, he supposed, or he wouldn't be growing this much.

“Aziraphale?” asked Crowley, staring at himself contemplatively.

“Mmm?” said Aziraphale, looking up from his book.

“How… er… do you know how big I’m supposed to get? I never… I never exactly asked around when I was down there.”

“Hmm, I don’t believe I’m quite sure either, dear,” said Aziraphale. “Oh! I know! I’ll do some research, shall I? I’m sure I can find out from somewhere. Bound to be something in one of these books.”

“Thanksss, angel,” said Crowley, gazing at him lovingly.

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” said the angel. “I’m happy to help, darling.”

The demon shifted on the sofa, trying to stretch. He'd given up on lying down out of fear that he wouldn’t be able to sit back up, and besides, every time he moved too much, the eggs would jostle past each other as if his stomach was a kaleidoscope. It was very disconcerting. Right now, though, the issue was his foot, had been itching for over an hour and didn’t seem like it was going to stop any time soon.

If he was honest, he should just give up trying to scratch it himself. Aziraphale would no doubt happy to scratch it for him. But, Crowley felt, it was _demeaning_ _to have somebody scratch your feet for you_. He was a 6000 year old demon, for somebody's sake. He should be able to scratch his _own_ foot.

He leaned forward, wincing a little as he took part of his belly's weight off the sofa, trying to reach his arm around the side to somehow connect with his foot. At the same time, he tried to pick his foot up off the floor, and bend it around to his arm. He nearly had it, he was sure. Just a few more inches...

"Crowley, dear? What are you doing?" said Aziraphale.

"What does it look like, angel!?" said Crowley. "I'm scratching my foot!"

"Quite," said Aziraphale. “Would you like me to…?”

"I should be able to scratch it myself..." said Crowley. "What kind of demon am I if I need someone else to scratch my foot?”

"One who has people who care about him," said Aziraphale. "But I shan’t offer, then. I do think this would help, though, dear." A tartan back scratcher miraculously appeared in the angel's hand.

"Tartan, again, really?” said Crowley, rolling his eyes.

“Tartan is _stylish_ ,” said Aziraphale.

“Ngk, fine,” said Crowley. "Give it here." He rolled his eyes and accepted it from the angel. Then he finally, finally, started scratching his foot.

He did have to admit, that really was better. "Thanks, 'Ziraphale."

"Any time, dearest," said Aziraphale, beaming.

-

After another three weeks, Crowley had become about ten times as large as a human pregnancy, and he was somehow even more uncomfortable. His gravid body felt absolutely full of eggs, the skin somehow having stretched out even more to accommodate their growing size. He couldn’t even stand up by himself anymore without collapsing, and he'd only been managing to get off the sofa by having Aziraphale support his stomach for him while he got into the wheelchair. And even that would be coming to an end soon, Crowley thought – the last couple of times, he'd been able to tell that the angel was struggling to hold him.

His giant, lumpy belly was sprawled between his legs, drooping all the way to the floor in front of him and pinning him in place on the low sofa. All he could do by himself was wriggle a bit, really, and reach part of the way around himself. If he wriggled too far at once, it hurt and pulled as his skin stretched beyond what it was ready to accommodate, and then even if he ignored that, at some point he just couldn't go any further.

He was starting to get bored, to be frank. He’d found a few funny videos on his phone, spent some good time that way, and as often as possible he’d got Aziraphale to take him places. But that would be ending soon, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He was going to get a lot bigger from here, according to Aziraphale’s research, and soon he wouldn’t be able to get out of the flat at all. In fact, when he was fully grown, he would take up most of the space in the room.

Well, at least he could take advantage of going outside for now.

"Aziraphale..." he whined.

"Yes, Crowley?" said the angel, who was seated across the room from him.

"Can we go out? Just around the ssshops or sssomething. Glue a few coins to the pavement."

"Of course, dearest," said Aziraphale, his eyes soft. "I have a few doubloons lying around from when I was in Spain, you know. One of those’ll be just the thing."

"HA!" laughed Crowley, before wincing slightly as his eggs jostled inside him. "That'll be perfect, good one, Aziraphale. All those collectorsss... let's go."

Aziraphale wheeled the chair over, which had been expanded with a large platform at the front to accommodate and support Crowley's new size, and slid onto the sofa next to the demon. He slid both of his hands firmly under the curve of Crowley’s belly, and engaged strong muscles, the same ones that had once been used in his work as a soldier before Eden, lifting the demon’s stomach from the ground. With the angel supporting as much of his weight as possible, Crowley was able to stand up and waddle slowly and unsteadily across the short distance to the chair, at which point, Aziraphale lowered him down into the seat. He landed with a thunk as Aziraphale let go.

"Oof, bit of a heavy landing that time, angel," said Crowley, feeling rather jolted.

"Sorry about that," said Aziraphale, while rearranging the edges of Crowley’s belly a bit to ensure he’d be comfortable. "It's just, you're getting rather heavy, you see, even for me."

"Ngh... yeah, I guess I am," said Crowley, settling into the chair. "Do you have the coins?"

"Yes, and we’ve got a picnic lunch as well, dearest," said Aziraphale. "I packed some of those chocolates you've been craving, and a few of those frozen mice, too."

"Thanksss," said Crowley, blushing. It was something of an embarrassment to him that he'd been craving mice, like a mortal snake. He'd eaten them on occasion before this, of course, but only because it was something to do, and the mice had annoyed him. The desperate _need_ to have them was something new. He supposed there must be something in them that his eggs needed.

Aziraphale wheeled him out of the flat, whose door had recently mysteriously found itself significantly wider, and they rode the lift down to street level, Aziraphale keeping his eye fixed sternly on the lift mechanism to ensure it knew not to drop Crowley despite his high weight.

They headed a few streets over to a little cafe they often frequented, which Aziraphale claimed made the most delectable sandwiches, and the angel parked him next to one of the tables, in a spot with a good view of the pavement.

"How about a little mouse before we get started?" Aziraphale asked.

"Ngh... ok, you’ve tempted me," said Crowley, who was getting a bit peckish.

The angel took one of the frozen mice and miracled it out of the packet, then handed it to Crowley. Crowley took it and reached up and over the curve of his belly, dangling the mouse above his mouth. He opened his gullet wide like a snake and dropped his prize in whole, gulping a little as it travelled down his oesophagus. Ahhhh, now that hit the spot.

Aziraphale was gazing at him, entranced. "Feeling better, dearest?" he asked.

"A bit," said Crowley. "Well, much as I can be with eggsss sssquassshing my nonexistent kidneysss." Aziraphale patted his shoulder gently.

"It does look ever so uncomfortable, I must admit," said the angel.

"Thanksss for the mouse, angel," said Crowley, blushing. “Fresh air’sss pleasant, at least. Let’s get ssstarted with the coins before I get any fatter, alright?”

“Hmm, no time to waste,” said Aziraphale, smiling at him slyly. The angel pulled out a leather wallet, opening it for Crowley to see. It contained a variety of shrapnel of all sorts of different values, and – as promised – the best of the lot, a genuine gold doubloon. Crowley grinned.

Immobile as he was, Crowley wasn’t able to glue the coins himself, but he had great fun directing Aziraphale from his chair as to where to put them for optimum annoyance of passers-by.

"Hey, angel, put one on the underside of the umbrella!" Crowley called, grinning. He peered around his gravid belly and watched Aziraphale do just that, reaching up to a spot inside one of the parasols that covered the outdoor cafe tables.

"Will here do, dearest?" called Aziraphale.

"Yeah, looks good!" Crowley answered. The angel glued the coin in place neatly, and then walked back over to Crowley.

"Just this one left now," said Aziraphale, holding out the doubloon. "Where do you want it?"

"Hnngh," said Crowley. "Right... how about... just there, by that crack in the pavement."

"Here?" said Aziraphale, moving over to somewhere near where Crowley was pointing.

"Nngh, a bit to the left," said Crowley. "Better angle for me. By that patch of moss."

"Oh, of course," said Aziraphale, obliging. He meticulously glued the doubloon in place, and then headed back to the table. He gently rubbed the top of Crowley’s naked, exposed belly, following that up with a soft kiss. Then he sat down next to the pregnant demon, and called over the waiter to place an order.

Crowley blushed a little as the waiter came over. Even though Aziraphale had miracled things so that no humans would notice anything out of the ordinary – right now, the waiter would be seeing a normal pregnant human who happened to be disabled and using a wheelchair – it was still embarrassing, having strange humans paying attention to him when he felt like he was the size of a small house. His clothes barely covered any of his girth at all, his jeans still unzipped and his t-shirt pushed all the way up, leaving the whole of his enormous belly exposed to the elements, and to prying eyes. He fought the urge to ask Aziraphale to miracle him hidden by a tablecloth or something.

It was still much better than staying stuck in the flat, though.

Thankfully, Aziraphale ordered quickly, so the waiter left again, and the two of them were able to settle into the important business of chatting while watching humans try to pick up the coins they'd glued in place.

Every so often, a hapless human would come and try to pick up a coin. Some would just have one go, and some would be more persistent, but they made fools of themselves every time. It was better than reality television – and Crowley would know, he'd invented that. When there were no people around, he watched Aziraphale eating, and occasionally ate a bit himself, when Aziraphale pushed it over for him to try. The angel was as radiant as always, and for a while, staring at his lover, he nearly forgot about his predicament. At least, until he leant too far over and was suddenly reminded of it. Wincing, he turned back to the coins.

One particular human tried so hard to pick up the doubloon that they actually fell over (harmlessly – Aziraphale had miracled things so that no one would be seriously hurt by their endeavours), and Crowley started laughing so hard that, had he been his usual size, he might have fallen out of his chair.

"HAHAHAhAHAHAhHAA – ouch – ha – ow," he said, the force of his laughter pulling at his gravid stomach painfully. The growing eggs shifted with the movement and dug into his insides. "Nghfm," he said, eloquently, trying to massage his side surreptitiously to fix the issue.

"Dear?" asked Aziraphale, pausing his fork on its way to his mouth, and looking at him with concern. "Are you quite okay? Do we need to finish things here?"

"'t'ssss alright, Ziraphale," said Crowley, trying to settle down. "Jussst... laughter just caught me by surprise, is all. We can stay. Finish your pastry, angel."

"Well, if you're sure," said Aziraphale, and patted him gently. Crowley hissed at him fondly, just a little, and then returned to people-watching. Fortunately, while many more hilarious humans appeared, nothing with quite the same effect on him happened again.

Eventually, they both got bored of the entertainment for now, and Aziraphale informed him that they'd be going to the park for a picnic. The angel raised his hand to snap his fingers.

"Wait," said Crowley.

Aziraphale paused. "Hmm? What for?" he said.

"Let's leave the coins here for a few days. Cause a bit of extra confusion that way.," Crowley explained. “Can always snap ‘em back to your wallet after that,” he said.

"Ah, yes, that would cause some extra mischief," said Aziraphale, and lowered his hand. "And I think my wallet shan’t miss them.”

Crowley grinned at him.

“Right. Well,” Aziraphale continued, “which park would you like to go to? The usual?"

"Yeah, 's fine," said Crowley. "Show off to all the ducks. Bastards."

Aziraphale smiled at him. "I'm sure the ducks will be very impressed."

“They’d better be,” said Crowley. “I’m very impressive.”

They had a very enjoyable picnic, even if Crowley did spend rather a large amount of time glaring at the ducks from his wheelchair for daring to look at him smugly. They seemed to find it amusing that he couldn’t dunk them under the water right now. Well, once he was back to his usual size, they were going to learn.

Aziraphale fed him frozen mice and chocolates by hand, and ate a selection of pastries with delightful relish. The sun was shining overhead. Despite the ducks, it was, thought Crowley, almost the perfect day.

Eventually, after a long and pleasant afternoon and evening, the sun began to set, and Aziraphale packed up their things and wheeled Crowley back to the flat.

"Thanksss for taking me out today, angel," said Crowley. "'t was fun."

"My pleasure," said Aziraphale. "Did you want to see to your plants before I help you back out of the chair?"

"Yeah, I did," said Crowley. “Can’t let them get away with anything.” Aziraphale nodded and wheeled him through to the plant room, and he eyed the plants carefully.

"Lisssten up, you lot," he said. "Just because I haven't been so mobile lately, don't think you can get away with ssslacking. If you don't stay in shape, I'll set Azzziraphale on you, and you know he wouldn't know a fig from a ficusss. So behave!"

The plants quivered under his gaze.

"I've got my eyesss on you," said Crowley, and signalled to Aziraphale to wheel him back out of the room.

The angel brought him over to the sofa, and prepared to help him back out of the chair.

“I don’t know why you have to be so mean to them, Crowley,” said Aziraphale.

“They’ve got to learn to behave,” said Crowley, as Aziraphale placed his hands under the demon’s belly once more.

Unfortunately, what neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had realised yet was that Crowley's eggs had grown again while they were out. It was only by a little, but it was enough to make Crowley just a tiny bit heavier.

So when Aziraphale lifted Crowley up to support him, and Crowley began to waddle back towards the sofa, he made it only half way before his stomach slipped from Aziraphale’s hands and his legs collapsed under him.

"FUCK!" shouted Crowley, his arse and belly smacking into the cold, grey stone. "For G- S- Someone's sake, Aziraphale!"

"Bugger," said Aziraphale. "Sorry, my dear, I do apologise. It appears you've gotten significantly heavier since this morning."

"Urggggh," said Crowley, eloquently. He hoped his backside didn’t bruise from this. "...Any chance of getting me back to the sofa?"

"...I don't think so," said Aziraphale. "I would only be likely to drop you again, dear. I can probably manage to roll you into a more comfortable position?"

"...if you wouldn't mind, angel," said Crowley. He'd landed with his arse under him, jarring his tailbone, and his legs were trapped completely under his belly. At this angle, he'd be at risk of getting squashed entirely as he grew further. It didn't sound fun. "Uhh... maybe... roll me onto my front, will you?"

"Oh, good idea," said Aziraphale. “Easy access for the eggs that way, I should think.” The angel miracled the sofa away, now that it was just taking up space, and carefully pressed his manicured hands against Crowley's sore back. Crowley leaned into them gratefully.

Aziraphale pushed with all his might, and Crowley felt himself roll slowly forward, eggs squirming beneath him, until he was resting on the very top of his belly. His legs were no longer squashed, instead dangling behind him, leaving the tips of his scaly toes just about touching the ground.

He'd had a water bed once, back when they were in fashion, and that had been a bit like this, he thought, though somewhat less lumpy. Though of course he'd never been physically attached to his water bed. But, he thought, this wouldn't be so bad. He could cope with this.

"'nks, angel," he said.

"No problem, dear," said Aziraphale. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Make the floor into carpet, would you?" Crowley asked. "'s a bit cold." Aziraphale got ready to snap his fingers. " _Not_ tartan," added Crowley belatedly. The angel smiled fondly at him, eyes twinkling, and snapped. The floor found that it was suddenly a very tasteful wine-red carpet.

"There you are, dear," said Aziraphale. He rubbed the side of Crowley's belly, and kissed it gently. "And do let me know if you need anything else at all, Crowley. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,”said Crowley.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some more pastries," said Aziraphale.

"Get those ones with the icing on the top, you know, with the..." said Crowley.

"Yes, with the little swirls," said Aziraphale. "I do adore those ones. Alright, I'll see you shortly, my love." Crowley blushed as the angel left.

He sighed.

He was, he realised, stuck here now until the birth. He was only going to keep growing, and soon Aziraphale wouldn't be able to roll him either. Well, he supposed, he better get used to this view.

By the time Aziraphale got back, he was already getting bored. Wonderful.

"My dear,” said Aziraphale, setting the pastries down on the table. “I was thinking... perhaps we should remove your trousers before you get any bigger? Just... well... when the eggs come, you wouldn't want them to be in the way. And it will only get harder to remove them as you grow."

"Oh, yeah, probably," said Crowley. "I miracled 'em on, so you'll probably have to do it, angel."

Aziraphale moved around to Crowley's rear end, leaning on the demon's belly and stretching over to reach the top of his jeans. They were unzipped already, having been so since early on in Crowley's pregnancy, and the only reason Crowley was still wearing them (and his grey t-shirt) was because when he'd been able to go outside, he hadn't really wanted to be completely naked in front of the humans, or at least, not in this condition.

Crowley waited self-consciously, eggs moving inside him under Aziraphale’s weight, as his love began to carefully shimmy the jeans down his legs. They were very tight, and it was very slow going. Crowley wondered how the angel was planning to get them over his feet.

The angel worked the trousers downwards, and Crowley felt them leave the curve of his arse, exposing his bum to the air. Then, the motion stopped.

"Ah, dear?" asked Aziraphale.

"Yes, angel?" asked Crowley, resisting the urge to turn round and look at him, since he wouldn't be able to twist his head that far anyway.

"How... ah... how exactly are you planning to lay these eggs with no Effort of any sort?" asked the angel.

"Ngk," said Crowley. He'd been having some worried thoughts in that direction himself. "Erm… I’m just hoping the issue will solve itself at some point, really" he said. "Forgot to make an exit before I stopped being able to miracle. But I don't think I've heard of anyone having problems with that before..."

"Well," said Aziraphale, "do tell me if you run into any difficulties in that department, dear." He patted the demon's bum, causing Crowley to blush, and then returned to working the jeans off. "I’ll take another look in my books for you. The same source I used before might say something about the issue.”

"Ngh," said Crowley, wondering just how much there could be about the demon reproductive cycle in Aziraphale’s books. "Thanksss, angel."

Eventually, after some time and a considerable amount of handsiness on the part of his angel, Crowley could feel that the skinny jeans were rolled up by his ankles, on the scaly part of his legs. Slowly, Aziraphale began to inch the narrowest part of the jeans over the demon's scaly heels.

"How did you even get these on, my dear?" asked Aziraphale, incredulous.

"Told you, I miracled 'em," said Crowley.

"Perhaps in the future you'll see the advantage of maintaining a corporeal wardrobe, then," said Aziraphale.

"Nah," said Crowley. "Too much work. Have you _seen_ how often fashions change?" He straightened his feet out, pointing them and flattening them as much as he could, making it easier for Aziraphale to slip the trousers off. Gradually, his legs were released from their fabric prison, until he was naked from the waist down.

"Help me with the t-shirt as well, would you?" he asked.

"Of course, my dear," said Aziraphale. "I do love seeing your lovely chest." The angel stood upright, removing the pressure from the rear of Crowley's belly, and moved around to where Crowley could see him.

"Arms up, dear," said Aziraphale, and Crowley stretched his arms out in front of his head, looking up a little so he could look at Aziraphale's face. "Excellent," said Aziraphale. He leaned carefully across Crowley’s front, shifting the eggs inside him again, and pulled the grey shirt over his head. The flexible fabric came off much more easily than the jeans, exposing the demon’s bare chest.

"I see you went with the no-nipple look," said Aziraphale. “Very charming.” The angel kissed him fondly on the forehead, then on the nose. Crowley reached up to grasp the angel's head, and adjusted it gently so that he could kiss Aziraphale on the lips.

"Thanksss, angel," he said as they broke apart.

"No trouble, my dear," said Aziraphale. "Do you want me to get you your mobile telephone? You could gnome some fora, or whatever it is you like to do on there."

"It's troll the forums, angel," Crowley said with exasperated fondness. "And, er, yes, please."

-

It hadn’t taken long for Crowley to get bored with the internet and decide to take a nap for a bit. It had been tough to get to sleep, what with his stomach in constant pain from the stretched skin, and the growing eggs digging into what passed for his skeleton, but Aziraphale had put on some soothing music and eventually he’d managed to drift off, and had slept peacefully for some time, dreaming of pleasant things.

Now, however, he’d woken up. Blearily, he opened his eyes, and saw Aziraphale sitting across from him, reading as usual. Crowley wiggled a little, and found that he was still stuck in place. Really, he didn't know why he'd expected anything else.

"Crowley, dear!" said Aziraphale, looking up from his book. "You're awake! Did you enjoy your little snooze?"

"Yeah, I did, thanks, angel," said Crowley. "Little snooze, really?" He did his best to look incredulous.

It seemed he had grown even more while he was asleep. His feet no longer touched the floor at all, his legs being completely supported by his egg-filled corporation, and he was large enough that there was also several feet’s worth of himself in front of his face. Plus, it seemed that his belly had taken the cue of being released from clothes to expand further along his body, and rather than running from his hips to the bottom of his chest, it now curved away from the very base of his blank crotch, and extended up to right beneath his armpits at the other end. It left him even more immobile than before, unable to lift his arse or raise his chest at all.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked Aziraphale.

"About a month, I'd say," said Aziraphale. "Oh, you must be hungry!"

"...yeah, I am," said Crowley. "How big am I? I can't... I can't really tell any more."

"I'd say you're around... oh, twenty times the size of a full term human?" said Aziraphale. "Maybe twenty-five. Well, I’m estimating, of course.” The angel blushed. “Oh, but what would you like to eat? Perhaps some mice? Ooh, or, you know, I picked up a delicious quiche from that little shop next to–"

"I'll try some quiche," said Crowley, cutting him off. "Go on, you've tempted me."

"Oh! Excellent. I'll bring you some right away," said Aziraphale. The angel kissed his belly, ran his hand gently across the demon’s exposed skin, and bustled away into the kitchen.

Crowley took a moment to assess the situation, running his hands over the parts of his stomach he could reach. The eggs were definitely getting bigger still, and even though it still felt as tight and stretched as ever, his stomach was obviously capable of growing even more. He wondered how he would feel when he reached his full size. Aziraphale had told him that demon pregnancies usually lasted around seven months, and he was only around three months in.

Speaking of Aziraphale, the angel came back with the quiche, setting it on top of his belly on a little plate.

"There you are, Crowley," he said. “Oh, I do hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanksss, angel,” said Crowley. He reached forward and lifted the plate off his belly, bringing it and the quiche closer to his mouth.

“Mmm,” said Crowley. “Thisss is actually pretty tasty, you know.”

“Oh, you like it?” said Aziraphale. “I knew you would, my dear, I’m so happy.”

“Yeah, ‘s very satisfying,” said Crowley. He ate the rest of it in a few more bites, and then set the plate back down on the table of his enormous stomach.

“If you’d like anything else, Crowley, do tell me, won’t you?” said Aziraphale, taking the now-empty plate of quiche away and setting it aside, and then handing Crowley his phone.

“Course I will,” said Crowley, accepting the phone. “Whenever I think of sssomething. Ngk.”

-

Over the following weeks, Aziraphale had not only brought Crowley his phone, but also his laptop, enabling him to use the internet to cause minor mischief in a variety of satisfying ways. Crowley had installed a few video games, too – it was so fulfilling to get his opponents to rage quit. It did a lot to alleviate the boredom of being unable to move.

Rather than resting directly on Crowley's ridiculously gravid belly, which according to Aziraphale was now, two months after his nap, around four metres long and two and a half metres high, and where the fragile electronics might be at risk of falling off as the now-enormous eggs shifted within him, the laptop and phone were both resting on a sturdy wooden panel which the angel had suspended from the ceiling in front of Crowley's face. It even slid back and forth a little in a pair of sliders, allowing the demon to move it further away if he wanted to take a nap, and then closer again when he wanted to see the screens more clearly. Right now, Crowley was working on an idea he'd had for a novel – one which would surely get a whole bunch of humans very riled up indeed – while, down on the ground, Aziraphale was giving him a massage. It was a little tricky, having both of those things going on at once, but he was making it work.

He shivered as the angel's familiar hands pressed into his sensitive skin, kneading out the tension from his gargantuan egg-filled stomach. Aziraphale had started doing this for him once a day, and every time it felt just as good, giving him a brief respite from the constant discomfort of his pregnancy.

Eventually Aziraphale reached the upper half of his body, having miracled up some sort of movable stepladder to enable him to reach. Crowley had started melting under the angel's ministrations some time ago, and he realised he hadn't written anything for a while now. Haphazardly, he pushed the sliding desk away from him, giving up on the novel for now, and simply rested his forehead on his belly while the angel worked.

He drifted for a while, enjoying the sensations. He was almost starting to drift off to sleep when he suddenly squeaked, Aziraphale’s hands finding their way to his bare backside. Well, his angel was nothing if not thorough.

"Problem, dearest?" asked Aziraphale, squeezing a little. The bastard.

"Ngk," said Crowley. "Uh, erm, carry on."

"You're sure?" said Aziraphale. Crowley couldn't see his face, but he imagined he was smirking.

"Carry on, angel, pleassse!" said Crowley.

"Certainly, my dear," said Aziraphale. "And do tell me if you're feeling uncomfortable."

Crowley turned red. "Jussst get on with the masssage, angel." Aziraphale did.

He was very thorough indeed.

Afterwards, once Crowley was nothing more than a pool of hazy limpness, Aziraphale started to climb down from his platform again, but Crowley managed to reach through the haze before he got too far and grab hold of his arm.

"Ssstay?" he asked, tugging the angel a little closer.

"Of course, dearest," said Aziraphale, and lay down on top of Crowley's belly, to Crowley's right side. Crowley felt his eggs squirm as his belly settled, distorted by the angel's knees and elbows. But he could see Aziraphale's face now, so that was alright.

"Is this comfortable for you?" Aziraphale asked.

"t's fine," said Crowley. "'s great." He turned his head to the side, and tried to stretch his neck towards Aziraphale's face. When this still left a rather large gap between him and Aziraphale, he reached out his right arm, and set it on the angel’s cheek.

"Ziraphale..." said Crowley.

"Oh, Crowley," said Aziraphale, and shuffled closer to Crowley's face. Unfortunately, he was still too far away for Crowley to properly reach.

"Kiss me?" said Crowley.

"Alright, you old serpent," said Aziraphale, and leant in closer.

-

It was now seven months since Crowley had first noticed he was pregnant, and it was a good thing he hadn't gone for low ceilings when he'd decorated, because he was further off the ground than ever.

Aziraphale had told him a few days ago that he'd reached over six metres long, and a good three and a half metres tall, and Crowley believed it. Even when he looked to the side, the curve of his belly stretched away from him with enough room for at least two people to lie there, should he be inclined to let them up.

He could feel his enormous eggs poking into him constantly. They'd grown even more since last week, he thought. The one he could feel nestled under his right armpit felt like it must be at least a metre long, and pretty wide too. And if he was honest with himself, well, he wasn't looking forward to seeing how they were going to come out.

They would come out, despite his current lack of genitals. Aziraphale had done the promised research for him, and the angel had assured him that he would find himself with a suitable opening in due course. (Crowley would have been rather impressed, if a little worried, to know that Aziraphale's research had eventually led him to summon a minor demon directly from Hell into his bookshop to interrogate them on the matter, and had threatened to summon them again and break out the holy water should said demon prove to be lying. However, Crowley had no idea about this and Aziraphale had no intention of telling him.)

Speaking of Aziraphale, he adored the angel so much. Since Crowley's stomach had become too tall for him to see Aziraphale if the angel sat in his usual reading chair, Crowley's lover had taken to sitting next to him atop his belly for most of the day, talking or reading or just, well, being. And he'd been continuing with the daily massages, too. Crowley really appreciated it, though it made him blush to admit it. Without Aziraphale, this whole pregnancy business would have been very hard indeed.

“What are you thinking about, dearest?” the angel asked from his usual spot to Crowley’s right. It looked like he’d just finished the book he’d been working on.

“Just how incredibly gorgeousss you are, angel,” said Crowley. Aziraphale blushed, preening a little.

“Not as handsome as you are, I’m afraid,” said Aziraphale, and leant in for a quick kiss. “I’m going to nip to the cafe, I’m a bit peckish. Would you like anything?”

“Mmmf… a bit more of that quiche, if they have it?” suggested Crowley.

“Quiche it shall be,” said Aziraphale. “I love you, my dear. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” He kissed Crowley’s temple softly, and then scrambled down the ladder and off Crowley’s belly.

“See you,” said Crowley, as the angel left.

Not long after that, while he was waiting for Aziraphale to return, Crowley was tapping away at his keyboard, arguing idly with some human on a chat server, when suddenly, he accidentally keysmashed as a sharp new pain passed all the way through his body. He frowned. Something was clearly happening.

He quickly typed "brb" into that chat window and pushed the computer away from him. Better not to take chances until he figured out what it was.

A short while later, the pain came again, his entire gigantic body squeezing itself sharply around his gargantuan load of eggs.

And then a few minutes later, again.

What was happening?

Wait, wait, he knew this one. He’d seen it in pregnant humans. He was having _contractions._


	2. Laying

"Aaaaggghhhhh!" Crowley cried, his titanic stomach contracting again around the eggs, harder this time. There was still nowhere for the eggs to go, even as he felt the first egg start to enter his pelvis. He really, really hoped Aziraphale was right about the openings.

He screamed again as another contraction wracked his body. This time, it felt different, deeper – and suddenly he was transforming, he was changing, and then his head was on the carpet. Resting a moment, he gathered his senses. Slowly he came to the realisation that he was now a very large, extremely long snake.

His entire body hurt, his scales stretched out way past their limits all along his length in order to contain his brood, and it felt like he was a bit stacked on top of himself somewhere in the middle, leaving the coils at the bottom to feel squashed under the sheer weight of eggs. He hissed as the pain hit once more, and the egg that had been in his pelvis before the transformation moved to nudge against the inside of his freshly manifested cloaca. Thank Somebody, at least he had one of those now. Despite what Aziraphale had said, he’d still been worried the eggs wouldn’t be able to come out.

Crowley tested his movement range carefully, and found that he could move only his head and the very top of his body, and the tip of his tail way down past his vent. The eggs were still almost completely immobilising him, and now he didn't even have arms or legs to wave around. He'd just have to ride it out, he supposed. Now that he was having contractions, it couldn't be too much longer.

"Aaaaghhh!" He hissed as the next contraction pushed the tip of the enormous egg out through his vent, stretching his cloaca wide open. The egg stayed there after the contraction receded, leaving him with a dull burning pain where he was stretched around it. Just as he'd thought, the egg was huge.

He breathed in and out and in and out, slowly trying to gather himself. Then he rode into the next contraction, crying out once more.

The egg moved just a little, and opened him even further.

Somebody, that hurt.

He cried out again as the next contraction hit, breathing through it, pushing the egg just a little further again. Most of the egg was still inside him, he realised. This was going to take a while. He thought, trying to remember what all those pregnant ladies on the internet had said. What was it? Breathe, he thought, that was it. Breathe in and out. In and out.

An eternity later, he'd finally got the egg nearly all of the way out. With one final contraction, he pushed it out of his vent, hearing the gentle thud as it fell onto the ground. He sighed with happiness, enjoying the relief on his poor cloaca.

But then the next contraction came, and he felt the second egg already nudging at his entrance.

Ah, yes. One egg down, only several hundred more to go.

Oh, he hated this.

He'd made it half way along the second enormous egg, breathing heavily, hissing increasingly violent curses as the pain shot through his stretched-out body, when he heard footsteps.

"It's me, Crowley!" called Aziraphale from the doorway of the room. "I brought – oh!"

Crowley heard a thud as Aziraphale dropped whatever he was holding.

"Aaaaziraphale!" hissed Crowley, as a contraction hit.

"Oh, dearest! You're laying!" cried Aziraphale.

"Obviousssly!" said Crowley, breathing heavily. "Get over here – ah! - get over here and help? Pleassse?"

"Oh, my dear, of course," said Aziraphale. Crowley heard a snapping sound, presumably the angel dealing with whatever it was he'd dropped, and then Aziraphale crossed the room towards Crowley's head. He knelt down next to him and stroked him gently on the snout. "You're doing so well, dearest, you’ve laid a whole egg without me," said Aziraphale, continuing to stroke as Crowley entered another contraction. "That's it, Crowley. Oh, my beautiful demon. Now, I'm going to check everything is running smoothly down there, ok?"

"Hnngh," said Crowley.

The angel bent down further and kissed him on his scaly nose. "I love you so much, my dear," said Aziraphale, and vanished from Crowley's line of sight.

Crowley hissed as his muscles contracted again, feeling the egg slide out further, and then he felt Aziraphale's hands on his tail. It was rather sensitive, and if he hadn't been a snake right now, he would have blushed hotly. He tried not to think about it, feeling strangely warm as Aziraphale methodically examined his whole vent area, which was still stretched wide by the egg.

"It seems everything is in order, dear!" Aziraphale called, shouting a little due to Crowley's sheer length. "You should be able to lay all the eggs just fine! I'll move the first egg out of the way for you, though, this second one is practically on top of it!"

"Th - aaaagh! - uh, thanksss!" called Crowley, contracting again half way through the word, the egg shifting a little more. "Then, ah, pleassse could you come back up here?"

"Of course, dear!" called Aziraphale. "Wherever you need me, my darling snake." There was the sound of more footsteps, presumably Aziraphale repositioning the first egg, and then the angel was kneeling next to his snout again.

"Hi, angel..." said Crowley.

"Hello, my dear," said Aziraphale, kissing him softly on the head.

Things went more smoothly after that. Crowley was still in pain, but Aziraphale's soothing presence made time seem to pass more quickly now. When the second egg was nearly out, Crowley, curious, asked if Aziraphale would time the next one.

"Of course, dearest," said Aziraphale. He snapped his fingers and an antique pocket watch appeared in his hand. "What a good idea! Soon as this egg comes out, I'll start the timer."

"Tha-! ah - thanksss," said Crowley. "Love you, 'zzziraphale."

"I love you too, my dear," said Aziraphale.

Crowley felt everything squeeze once more, and felt the narrower tip of the second egg leave him as the soft, leathery shell finally slipped out of his vent. Then there was a quiet click as the pocket watch began timing, Aziraphale stroking Crowley’s snout.

Crowley was breathing more easily now, the gentle touch of the angel soothing him and distracting him from the pain of his swollen body. The contractions still hurt, of course, but now he had something else to concentrate on, and this time only a short eternity passed before the egg came free.

"Almost fifteen minutes," said Aziraphale.

"Fffifff- fffifffteen minutesss? - argh!" said Crowley. "That'sss... that'sss how long it took? Mussst be longer than that...”

"I should imagine it'll take you a few days at least to lay all these eggs at that speed,” said Aziraphale. “But you're doing so well."

"Daysss..." said Crowley faintly, as the next egg started to nudge against his exit. “T’sss going to feel like weeksss...”

"I’m sorry, dear," said Aziraphale, petting him on the nose. “Oh, but you’ll get through this. Brave, strong demon like you. I’ll be here the whole time.”

"Ehm.. agggh! ... ehm... d’you know..." said Crowley. "How big am I? I couldn't tell when I sssuddenly turned into a sssnake."

"Oh!" said Aziraphale. "Oh, I’d say… ooh... you're around... almost two hundred feet, I should think. You're a little coiled up in the middle, though, so I can't be quite certain."

"And... aaggh... how, ehm, how wide am I?" Crowley asked.

"Around... er... almost four feet diameter, it looks like," said Aziraphale. "It looks rather uncomfortable, I must say."

"'t isss," said Crowley, who still felt stretched to bursting, and whose cloaca was now straining around another egg. “Feelsss like bloody four feet at leassst."

"I'm sorry, my dear," said Aziraphale. "You'll get through this soon. You're doing so, so well." He took Crowley’s jaw in his hand and kissed Crowley's head, and Crowley pressed back against the angel's hand as best he could.

As the day continued, Crowley laid more and more eggs, and time started to blur, his world narrowing to just himself, the pain and effort of laying, and Aziraphale’s touch and voice, which was comforting and grounding him the whole time. Eventually, after who knew how many hours, he noticed the light was starting to change.

"Isss... isss it – aaargh – isss it evening?" he asked.

"Yes, I think it is," said Aziraphale.

"How many... how many eggsss have I laid?"

"About thirty, I should say."

Crowley swore quite creatively, before hissing as he went into another contraction.

"Thirty? Isss that all?" he asked. Despite having been laying most of the day, his scales felt just as stretched out as when he’d started.

"Your tail does look a little thinner, if it helps," said Aziraphale.

"Ssshould bloody well hope ssso," said Crowley.

He kept on laying right through the night, and by the next morning he was already feeling exhausted, having barely had a moment’s rest. He was still completely immobile.

"How many more, Zzziraphale…?" Crowley said weakly. "Hurtsss…"

“I believe you’ve laid around… ninety? There are still quite a few left, unfortunately,” said Aziraphale. "But you're doing so beautifully, my dear Crowley. You’ve been working so hard. And you do look thinner, now, I’m sure of it. You know, if I could help you avoid this, I would."

"I knowww, Zzziraphale," said Crowley, before hissing again as a contraction pushed the latest egg to the ground. “Sss appreciated.”

"You're such a strong, beautiful demon," said Aziraphale. "I believe in you. How about I read something to you to distract you?"

"That'd... that'd be… ngk," hissed Crowley. "Sssomething... ah!... oh, you know which onesss I like."

"I do, my dear," said Aziraphale. "I'll just be two ticks, then I'll be right back."

Crowley watched as the angel nipped into the other room, presumably to look through the reading material he'd brought with him to the flat, or to miracle something across. The next egg was starting to stretch him open already. Oh, Someone, it hurt.

Without Aziraphale steadying him, the pain seemed even more vivid. Who had decided this was what pregnant demons would go through? He’d been cut off from celestial contraception, why couldn’t he at least have had celestial abortion? But no, for some reason, that didn’t exist.

He whimpered a little as the egg moved again, mentally adding his question to his list of things to yell at Her about later if he got the chance. He thought about what Aziraphale had said. He could do this. He could.

It was then that Aziraphale returned with the promised book. The angel miracled a reading chair near Crowley’s head, just in the right spot for his comforting hand to resume its position resting on the serpent’s scales – and, oh, that improved things already. Just the knowledge that his angel was here for him made him feel warm inside, somehow. Who needed God anyway when you could have Aziraphale?

The angel opened the book with his free hand, laying it on the coffee table, and began to read.

Ah, good, he'd picked a funny one.

As his body contorted itself with another contraction, Crowley focused on the sound of Aziraphale's voice. He wasn’t going to give up yet. Only around five hundred eggs to go, right?

The second day passed even more slowly than the first, somehow. Aziraphale's voice was helping a lot, but as time went on, Crowley was beginning to struggle more with the eggs. He wasn’t certain, but he thought each contraction was moving them less. Still, he didn’t have any choice but to keep laying, so he soldiered on. Day turned into night, Aziraphale moved onto the next book, and still the eggs came, one after another in their long procession through his poor abused cloaca. The contractions got weaker and weaker as the night went on, and as the third day dawned, he sighed.

"Hnnnngh..." he said, as the most recent egg finally made its way out of him after an arduous effort. "Zzziraphale? How many am I up to now?"

"Ah..." said Aziraphale, "I'd say... almost two hundred. You're doing so well, my dear. And now you're only two-and-three-quarters feet wide, see. You're doing so wonderfully."

"Jussst wisssh I could move again," said Crowley. "Hurtsss – aaaagh! – hurtsss a bit lesss now, though. Lesss like I'm going to explode and – uuugh – more like I ate an army of crocodilesss..."

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, sweet," said Aziraphale. "You're being so, so brave."

“Ngk,” said Crowley, as the next egg began its journey towards his cloaca.

Aziraphale kept reading throughout the day, and it was one of Crowley’s favourites, too, which did a great job of distracting Crowley from his burden. Still, it was becoming harder and harder to lay each egg.

By the time evening came and Crowley found himself having spent half an hour trying to lay an egg that was still only half way out, with the last contraction so weak that the egg had barely moved a millimetre, he decided he'd had enough.

"Angelll," he whined.

"Yes, dear?" said Aziraphale, pausing his reading.

"It'sss too hard... it won’t… can you help?"

"Of course, darling," said the angel. "What do you need?"

"Can you try and... try and pull thisss one out? 'ssss... I can't get it to... ah!... to move..."

Aziraphale looked at him softly. "I'll see what I can do, dearest." He rubbed the top of Crowley’s head softly, and then walked down to his tail.

A moment passed, and then Aziraphale said, "I'm going to touch you inside now, Crowley, is that alright?"

"Nghhh... yea – ah! – yeah, go ahead, angel," said Crowley.

Another moment, and Crowley felt the angel's dextrous fingers touching the edge of his vent, where the egg was lodged. He hissed with pain as the fingers entered his cloaca around the egg, forcing him to open even wider.

"Dear?" called Aziraphale.

"Keep... ah, keep going, angel!" said Crowley.

The extra stretch remained as Crowley felt the egg start to move further along, his angel carefully working it out of him where his body had given up. Eventually he felt the egg fall free. Thank Someone, his poor cloaca finally would have a chance to rest.

"Thanksss, angel," he said. "Ssso tired..." He felt another contraction ripple weakly through his body, but nothing shifted inside him at all.

He was still stuffed full of eggs, too, and even if he hadn’t been exhausted, he was far too heavy to even think of moving. He hoped he wasn’t stuck like this. He flopped his head to the ground in exasperation, burying his snout into the carpet.

"Are you alright, dearest?" asked Aziraphale, concerned.

"The... uh..." Crowley thought about how to phrase it. "The contractionsss aren't pussshing anything any more," he said. "’M ssso tired..."

"Oh, my dear," said Aziraphale, and returned to pat Crowley's head. "Hmm... let me see… I think I came across something on that topic in my research." (Aziraphale had come across many things in his research. The demon Aziraphale had summoned had been very surprised to be asked detailed questions about demonic reproduction by a principality, but, fearing what might happen to them if the angel broke out the holy water, had been quite thorough in their answers.)

Crowley waited while Aziraphale thought.

"Ah, yes," said the angel. "I’m aware of a couple of methods. Do you think you're up to swallowing food right now, dear?"

"Mmm..." Crowley thought about it. His body was almost totally immobile, and he was tired as anything, but the muscles he needed for swallowing were mostly above the point where the eggs began, so he decided it should be fine. "Yeah," he said. "Think ssso."

"Then I’ll feed you a few frozen mice, and after that, you can take a nap," said Aziraphale. "I believe the extra energy from the food should get things restarted for you."

"Alright," said Crowley. "Bring the miccce, then. Jussst don’t want to be stuck like this."

“Oh, Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “You won’t be, my dear, I promise.”

Crowley waited, his head resting on the floor, listening to Aziraphale's footsteps as the angel went over to the food bags, miraculously still fresh after being untouched for several days, and then returned, a frozen mouse in his hand.

"Open up, my dear," he said. Crowley exhaustedly opened his jaw, and Aziraphale carefully set the mouse on his tongue, since the demon couldn't exactly reach forward to grab it himself right now. Then, once the angel's hands were out of the way, Crowley closed his jaw wearily and did his best to swallow.

"Wonderful, dearest," said Aziraphale. "You’ll be laying again in no time. Now, two more mice to go."

Aziraphale fed him them both in turn in the same manner, and then kissed him on the nose gently.

"Now, try and get some sleep while you digest them," said Aziraphale. "You really do look like you need it. Goodnight, my dear Crowley."

"G'night, Azzziraphale," said Crowley, and finally let himself give in to the exhaustion.

-

Crowley screamed as he woke up to the sharp pain of a full-strength contraction, an egg already stretching him wide. "Ow,” he grumbled once it finished. “What a way to wake up..."

"Oh, Crowley, my dear!" said Aziraphale, hurrying from Crowley's tail back to his head. "You're awake!"

"It hurtsss again," Crowley said.

"Well, I should imagine so," said Aziraphale, resting his hand on Crowley's side. "You've been asleep for around six hours, dearest. The contractions started up again around an hour ago, and you've laid four eggs in your sleep."

"In my sssleep?" said Crowley. "How?”

“The same way you laid the others, as far as I could tell,” said Aziraphale.

“Wisssh – ah! - wisssh I was ssstill asssleep. M’ cloaca’sss wider than the Englisssh Channel, ‘t feelsss like,” said Crowley.

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale, blushing.

“'M a lot lessssss tired now, though,” said Crowley.

"Glad to hear it, my dear," said Aziraphale, as Crowley felt the current egg move a little further along. "Now, do tell me if you start getting tired again, won't you? We can get you some mice before things get quite so bad that way."

"Yeaaggh! I mean, yesss, angel," said Crowley, chastised.

"Good. Now, oh, where were we with the reading? I'll pick up where we left off," said Aziraphale. The angel began reading, and Crowley allowed his lover’s voice and presence to lull him through the contractions once more.

The third night drifted into the fourth day, Aziraphale informing Crowley that he’d laid about 300 eggs and was now more like an over-stuffed triangle than an over-stuffed square, and the fourth day drifted into the fourth evening, Crowley laying egg after egg after egg.

The sun was setting again, and Crowley had just finished squeezing out an egg and had gone into another contraction, when he saw the carpet move a little.

Then, as another contraction passed through him, it happened again.

Wait.

Carpets didn't move.

It was him moving!

Well, he'd only moved around a centimetre. But that was more than he'd moved in _months._

"Azzziraphale!" he said, excited.

"Yes, dear?" asked Aziraphale.

"I can move!" Another contraction hit, and it pushed him another half centimetre.

"You can? Oh, you can, I can see!" cried Aziraphale happily. "That's wonderful, dear. It really shan’t be too much longer now."

"'m going to try and turn around," said Crowley.

"Yes, I can see why you might want to," said Aziraphale. "I imagine that one patch of wall has become quite boring. Shall I move out the way?”

"Naaaagggh! I mean, nah," said Crowley. "Ssstay there, ‘sss alright. I like you touching me.”

"You do, do you?" said Aziraphale, smirking. Then he looked at Crowley more seriously. "Oh, but, do be careful, Crowley. You haven’t moved anywhere for months."

"Then it’sss about bloody well time," said Crowley. “’M alwaysss careful.”

Gradually, Crowley managed to turn. It was slow going, because he was still incredibly heavy and laden with eggs, and he was going through constant pain and contractions, but it felt amazing to be able to move under his own power at last. Each movement revealed more of the room, and as he laid another egg, and then another, he found himself able to move further each time.

As he turned, he slowly became aware of a large stack of eggs in his field of view. Each egg was around a metre in length, and over a foot wide. It was immediately clear why his vent was aching so much.

"Nghk… did I really… hngg… that’s a lot of eggsss," said Crowley. He could see the current egg sticking out of his vent, too, half way out and holding him open, revealing a stretched, pinkish edge to his worn-out entrance. It was really quite surreal.

"It is, dearest," said Aziraphale. "I believe most of them are laid now. It should be just another day or two until you’re done, I’d say.”

“No wonder it wasss ssso much bloody woaaggh! Work." He gasped as another contraction rippled through him.

"You're doing so wonderfully, my dear. And I'm so happy you can move again."

Time passed, and Crowley laid yet more of his eggs, slowly slithering around the room in an effort to get more comfortable, gradually uncurling his middle where his coils had been partially stacked on top of each other. Aziraphale followed him around keeping a soothing and steadying hand on him the whole time. Eventually, after some time, dawn came again, the dawn of the fifth day of laying. There were now around 400 eggs in the stack, which Aziraphale had been adding new eggs to all day.

Crowley was beginning to get tired again, so rather than let things get as bad as before, he got Aziraphale to feed him a couple more mice, and then napped for a couple of hours. He was pleased to find out he’d been laying the whole way through the nap – less pain that he had to be conscious for. After that, the day went by relatively easily, Crowley settling into a rhythm and letting himself drift with the sound of Aziraphale's voice and the angel’s fingers on his scales, slowly winding around the room as he laid more and more of his remaining burden.

The sun set on the fifth day, and dawn rose on the sixth. In the light of the morning sun, Crowley could see that there were around 500 eggs in the stack. His body felt a lot less stretched out by now, thankfully. In fact, according to Aziraphale, he was now only one egg wide along his whole length.

"You're nearly there, my dear," said the angel. "I think this will be the last day."

"Thank sssomeone..." said Crowley wearily.

"Oh, Crowley," said Aziraphale. "I love you so much. You're doing so well."

Crowley took advantage of his new lighter weight to lift his head from the ground and lay it in Aziraphale's lap, nuzzling his thighs. The angel smiled, and petted his head.

As the day passed, Crowley slithered slowly across Aziraphale's lap, his whole length eventually passing across the angel's thighs. He got lighter and lighter, and things got easier and easier. He was so tired, and ready to be done with the whole thing, but with so few eggs left, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He was nearly there.

Dusk came and went, and by the early hours of the seventh day, Crowley had laid almost 600 eggs. It was getting hard to tell if he had any eggs left or not, so he got Aziraphale to check the entire length of his sinuous body.

"Just three more in there, my dear,” said the angel. “They're a little spread out, one’s at your tail and one’s near your head."

"Jussst three?" said Crowley. "Ooooh..."

It took him about an hour to lay the remaining eggs in total. Somehow the knowledge that it was nearly over caused the burning ache in his cloaca to be all the more noticeable, its abused edge stretching obscenely over each egg. Finally, though, the last egg popped free into Aziraphale's waiting hands, and Crowley sighed with weary relief.

"That's the last one, dear," said Aziraphale. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," hissed Crowley. He let his head and tail flop onto the floor, resting for a moment.

A moment later he felt a change coming over him, rippling from his head to his tail, and then he was human-shaped again, regularly proportioned, completely naked, and with a very out-of-place cloaca brushing against his thighs. He looked at the pile of eggs from his spot slumped on the floor.

"I really laid all those?" said Crowley.

"You did," said Aziraphale.

"What happens now?" said Crowley.

"From what I was able to learn," said Aziraphale, "they will relocate themselves to Hell without any effort from us. Presumably after that they will hatch into little baby demons, I suppose."

"Right," said Crowley. "Hope they get a bit of me in them.” He stared at them. “Could meet them in the future and I'll never even know,” he said.

"You could," said Aziraphale. “How strange to think about.”

The eggs started to glow a rather alarming shade of orange, and Aziraphale and Crowley watched from a safe distance as they somehow sank into the floor without damaging it at all. A few minutes later, there was no evidence there had ever been any eggs, apart from the lingering ache in Crowley's cloaca.

"Well, that's that, then," said Crowley. "Think I'll nap for a couple of days. Stay with me?"

"I’ll always stay with you, Crowley," said Aziraphale. “Whenever you ask.” The angel scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the flat’s bed.

“Nghk, this is much comfier,” said Crowley, sinking into the soft sheets. “I’ll skip the pyjamas, I think.”

"Yes, it does seem rather a lot of effort to wear them," said Aziraphale, climbing into bed and snuggling up next to him, pressing his rounded belly into Crowley's newly flat stomach.

"Is it me," said Crowley, "or is your stomach bigger than usual?"

Aziraphale looked at him, mouth open, and poked his belly gingerly. "You know," he said, "I think it is, a bit. You don't think...?"

"It could be," said Crowley. “Your lot do that sort of stuff the same as mine, right?”

Aziraphale nodded slowly.

"Well, if it is," Crowley added, "you know... you know I'll be there for you, right?"

"I’ve never doubted it,” said Aziraphale. “Now, go to sleep, you silly snake, you’re dropping off already.” He folded his arm around Crowley’s shoulder tenderly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Love you, Ziraphale,” said Crowley, and he drifted into sleep.


End file.
